DEVIOUS INTENTION – A COLLECTION OF EROTIC SHORT STORIES offers 10 steamy tales ranging from romantic couples to hot stranger encounters crafted for your pleasure.
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Targeted Age Group:: 18+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I enjoy manipulating words to create stories that keep you reading past your bedtime.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
A little bit of inspiration from RL characters and lots of imagination
I’m supposed to stay late to work on a project that’s due on Christmas Eve. Halfway through my draft, the computer acts out, so I have to call maintenance.
Guess who shows up? Brett Anderson, the new IT guy. He’s handsome, over six feet tall, and has a smoking hot body to boot. It should be criminal for someone to look that good and work here. Such a sinful distraction often spells trouble.
Perched on my swivel chair, I allow myself to shamelessly ogle the man’s perfect butt as he fiddles with my computer under the desk. Over the past two weeks, I had so many daydreams about us — in the elevator, against the wall, in the conference room, but never one that features him being under my desk. Now, if only he was sweaty and shirtless. Kneeling in front of me. Those strong hands cupping the back of my nylon-clad thighs as he drags me closer to the edge of my seat—
“There, all done,” Brett declares as my computer beeps to life. Straightening his spine, he flashes a dazzling smile at me. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” His gaze dips to my cleavage, which I’ve intentionally flaunted by unbuttoning the top two buttons of my blouse, before he averts his eyes to the monitor.
My libido-meter is spinning out of control. Does he notice how heavily I’m breathing? The way I crossed and uncrossed my legs, I won’t be surprised if he’s gotten a peek at my panties — which isn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things. “I’m the one who should apologize for keeping you here. I hope I haven’t ruined your Friday night plans.”
“Not at all. Do you always stay this late?”
Caught off-guard by his question, I murmur, “Only when I’m rushing a project.” I’d hate to give him an impression I have no life outside of this building. “It’s almost 9 PM. You must be hungry.”
He shrugs. “I was just gonna grab myself a pizza on the way home.”
“To share with someone?” I ask not-so-subtly. Hell, if I’m going to hit on him, I better make sure there won’t be a furious spouse coming at me with a machete.
“Hmm, yeah. Betsy.”
Damn. I scan his fingers. No ring. Maybe a girlfriend?
“She’s my Golden Retriever,” he adds, his sapphire eyes gleaming at me. “If you look me up on TikTok, you can check out her videos.”
“Oh.” A dog. “Sure.”
“Is there anything else you’d like me to fix?”
The ‘no’ is on the tip of my tongue when I realize there’s a lot more he could fix — the heated ache within me, for example. The blinds are open and it’s dark outside. We might be the only ones left in the office. I should probably call it a night and go home, but my treacherous body has other ideas. It craves a man’s touch, specifically the sex-on-legs in front of me.
“Well” — I saunter to the door, close it, then turn to him — “why don’t you do an inspection, see if there’s something that needs… fixing.”
He clears his throat and proceeds to tap on the keyboard. “Looks like all your files are in order.”
“That wasn’t what I meant when I said inspection.” I ease my butt onto the desk. If I wasn’t obvious enough — maintaining eye contact, I part my legs and slip one hand up my skirt.
My heart is hammering. Now that I’ve got his full attention, subtlety be damned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? I’m only touching myself. So sue me.
Luckily, I don’t have to worry about inflicting any mental scars — my wanton display flips a switch in him. He catches hold of my forearm, stilling my movement.
“Naughty girl.” His hand replaces mine. I hear the sharp intake of his breath when his fingers slide under the soaked lace of my panties, his touch featherlight. “All of this… for me?” He sounds pleased. “Have I made you this wet?”
I bite my lip playfully in response.
Each teasing stroke sets my senses on fire. He retracts his slick-coated digits only to trace the corners of my mouth.
I run my tongue over his fingers. Slow, savoring licks. Suckle each fingertip.
The growl that emits from him sends a delightful shiver through me. Abruptly, he stands, pulls me to him, my boobs mashed against his solid chest. Gripping my hips firm enough to leave marks, he seals his mouth over mine. I moan, amazed at how soft yet firm his lips are. Our tongues tangle in a wet, hungry kiss.
“Fuck,” he whispers when we break for air. “You taste better than I imagined.”
I smile coyly. “You’re delicious yourself.” He reminds me of a refreshing minty cocktail. My mind catches up. “Wait — you’ve thought about this?”
He smirks, and oh, God, those dimples make my nipples ache. “Quite a bit. I noticed you my first day here. I find you very attractive, Ms. Lena.”
“Yeah? The feeling is mutual, Mr. Brett.” My hand strays to his erection pressed against me. He’s so hard. So ready. And huge too. The thought of having his big cock inside me tightens my pussy. “So what do you say if we get down to business?”
“Hmm. Business?” Oh, he knows exactly what I have in mind.
“Talk is cheap,” I mumble, working at his belt and zipper. “But if you prefer me to spell it out, I want you to fuck me, Brett.”
“As you wish.” He fumbles with the buttons on my shirt.
I chuckle. “Need help?”
His jaw clenches. He smiles, then rips my blouse open, scattering the buttons over the carpet. Unbelievable.
My breath hitches in my throat as he palms my breasts. Squeezes them roughly. One pops out of the top of my bra. He lowers his head to take my nipple in his mouth and suck it. Pinches the other, rolls it between his thumb and forefinger.
A moan escapes me. I tug down his pants, his boxers. His cock is hot and hard in my grasp.
He growls again, the sound forming a ball of tension low in my belly. A casual swipe of his hand and my stationery clatters to the floor. I’m pushed further onto the desk, my skirt hiked up to my waist. Leaning back on my elbows, I watch him twist the gusset of my underwear. He flashes a wickedly sexy smile at me. Oh, hell no.
The fabric tears easily with a swift yank.
I open my mouth to complain and let out a whimper instead. That was fucking hot. But the only clothing left intact are my bra and skirt. How am I going to get to my car unnoticed? Oh, wait, I do have a jacket —
All thoughts fade away once he buries his face between my legs. His tongue manipulates my throbbing clit. Nothing slow or teasing this time. It’s way more intense. Purely primal. Two of his fingers sink inside me. In and out, he pumps them hard, harder. The explosion of sensations drives me to the edge in mere seconds. My head falls back, my moans echoing through the room accompanied by squelching sounds. I arch into him, clutch his hair, desperate for release…
And he knows just what I need, gives it to me, doesn’t stop until I writhe around and call out his name like a prayer. “Oh, Brett… Mr. Brett… please, I need to… Oh, God. Oh, God. Mr. Brett!” Somehow, addressing him formally makes me tremble even more.
He pulls me up off the table and kisses a searing path across my breasts, then up my neck. Our lips meld together.
“Lena,” he breathes. His grip on my jaw is possessive. “I’d love to finish this, believe me, but I don’t have any condoms.”
Stroking him, I reach for my purse behind me. “I do.” Thank God. I dig one out, pass it to him.
The foil rips open with a resounding tear. I get down on my knees to lick the pre-cum from his cockhead and drag my tongue along a pulsing vein on the underside of his rock-hard shaft. His flavor is rich. Addictive.
He tenses. Hisses out a breath. “Ah, fuck, Lena. You’re gonna make me look like a fucking twelve-year-old at this rate.”
I smile through my lashes at him in a way that says sorry but not sorry and take him deeper.
His hand fists in my hair, his thumb caressing my cheek. “You suck me so good. You look like a dirty angel with my cock in your mouth.”
My pussy clenches around nothing at his words. I respond by circling my tongue over the tip of his wide crest. His thigh muscles flex against my palms as I pull him in and out.
“Enough.” He has both hands on the sides of my head.
I meet his gaze. “You can come down my throat. I’ll swallow every drop.”
He growls at my words. “Tempting, Ms. Lena, but this isn’t how I want to finish. Now, will you please bend over?”
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